


29 Voicemails

by wobblebobble



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale/Crowley First Kiss (Good Omens), Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23739607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wobblebobble/pseuds/wobblebobble
Summary: Crowley buys Aziraphale a phone and teaches him how to make calls. he then falls asleep for a few days and arguing ensues.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 69





	29 Voicemails

**Author's Note:**

> this one got a little sad on accident but i still think it is sweet :,)

"Happy birthday, Aziraphale.” Crowley smiled as he walked into the bookshop.

“I don’t have a birthday.” Aziraphale got up from his reading chair, confused. “You know that perfectly well.”

“Today can be your birthday.”

“No, it’s September, I don’t want my birthday to be in September.”

“For someone’s sake, angel, just accept the gift.” Crowley handed a small white box to Aziraphale. “This is for you.”

“It doesn’t even have wrapping paper or a bow on it. Honestly, Crowley, if you’re going to make a joke about it being my birthday, at least - ”

“Aziraphale. Just open the box.” Crowley was anxiously circling around him.

Aziraphale opened it and took out a brand new smartphone. “Crowley, you know I don’t know how to use this.”

“Yes, I know, and it’s about time you learn. I can teach you. The first thing we’ll do is teach you how to make a phone call. You can stop using your gramophone.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Oh, all right. I would like to keep it though.” He paused, not really knowing what to say. “Thank you,” he finished, smiling. “It must have been expensive.”  
“Yeah, well…” Crowley trailed off. He didn’t want Aziraphale to know that he hadn’t actually bought it, more miracled it into existence. “Let’s get it set up.” They sat down on Aziraphale’s chair. Well, Aziraphale sat down and Crowley sat on the arm of the chair, draped around Aziraphale. 

“What do I do first?”

“Well, the first thing you have to do is create your password.” Crowley took the phone from him. “Here, like this.”

Aziraphale looked up at him. “What’s your passcode? I’m not going to break into it or anything, I just want some inspiration or something. I don’t know a lot. And I don’t have a birth date to use.” He looked up at Crowley, smiling with his eyebrows raised.

“Um,” Crowley paused. He knew Aziraphale wouldn’t unlock his phone, of course, but he didn’t really want to say. “4004. You know, the year Earth started or whatever.” _The year we met._

“Oh, that’s good.” Aziraphale paused to think. “Okay, I’ll do 1941.” Aziraphale said innocently, like it wasn’t one of the most significant years for him. _The year I realized I loved you._ He tapped it out very slowly on the screen with his pointer finger.

The significance of the date was not lost on Crowley. They hadn’t said anything about how they felt about each other since almost-Armageddon happened a few weeks ago, although they had been dropping hints. For Crowley, that meant coming over to the bookshop slightly more often and buying Aziraphale small gifts, like plants to brighten up the place. And now a new phone. For Aziraphale, dropping hints was trying to ignore how Crowley was making him feel. They weren’t getting very far, obviously.

Crowley tried to contain himself. “Okay. Okay, yeah that’s good. Very memorable year, wasn’t it? Nazis and all. Consecrated ground. My feet hurt for days after that.” He winced a little with the memory. “Alright, moving on. You can put in your name and stuff, just do what it says on the screen. You don’t have a last name though, right? Or is it Fell? Aziraphale Fell. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it, it’s just - ” 

“Dear, please do stop talking. You’re distracting me.” Aziraphale continued calmly as if he didn’t just call Crowley “dear.” Affectionately. Deliberately not platonically. Not like the usual “dear boy.”

Crowley almost discorporated right then and there. _Did he just call me “dear?” Affectionately? Deliberately not platonically?_ He cleared his throat, trying to remain calm. “Okay. Sorry. Oh, you just said to stop talking. Sorry. You know what, I’ll just leave, then.” Crowley stood up.

Aziraphale quickly looked up at him. “Oh, don’t leave, dear, I apologize. Come back, I need some help. Here, do you want to move to the couch? There’s more room.” He led Crowley to the couch that was definitely not tartan in the back room.

 _Oh my someone.He called me dear again. He’s leading me to the couch. ‘There’s more room.’ What does that MEAN?_ Crowley thought. Well, more like internally screamed. _Okay, I’ve got to relax. Chill, Crowley, chill._

He did not chill. He could barely think. After six thousand years of pent-up feelings and not being allowed to be together, here they were, finally. With all this freedom. And he wasn’t doing anything about it. He had fallen into the habit of trying to repress his feelings, and now that he had the chance to show them, he couldn’t do it. The best he could come up with was buying Aziraphale plants. Half his bookshop was green now. Like a small garden.

“Crowley? Are you going to sit down?” Aziraphale looked concerned.

He snapped back to reality. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Where were we? 1941?”

“I finished setting it up. Want to show me how to make a phone call now?”

Crowley flopped down on the couch in a way he hoped was cool but elegant. (It was neither.) He was on the opposite side of the couch, making a point not to touch Aziraphale.  
“Why are you so far away? Come here. I need your help.”

Ah, the words that get Crowley every time. He scooched over, but not too close. He leaned in. “What’s up?”

“When I want to call you, what do I do?”

“Well, you just tap on this little green phone icon thing at the bottom. Then you type in my number.”  
“I don’t know your number.”

“Oh yeah. Haha, sorry.” Crowley added himself in as a contact. “Here. You can text me too, if you want. Might want to start with calling though. Unless you want to text me. I wouldn’t be mad about that.” _Oh my someone Crowley chill!_ He yelled internally at himself.

“Okay. Let’s try calling.” Aziraphale called Crowley and Crowley’s phone buzzed from the pocket of his jeans. Crowley took it out and answered it.

“Hello? Who is this?” He looked over at Aziraphale and smiled, not breaking eye contact.

“It’s me, Aziraphale.” Aziraphale smiled right back at him. “Let’s get dinner.”

“Okay, where?”

“The Ritz, of course.”

“Sounds good. Want me to give you a ride?”

“That would be nice of you.”

“Yes, it would be, I guess. Thanks. Well, see you soon, eh?”

“See you soon, dear.” Aziraphale hung up.

They left for dinner and Crowley had trouble eating. He couldn’t stop staring at Aziraphale, who didn’t even seem to notice him. Finally, after Aziraphale finished his dessert, he looked up at Crowley. “Are you ready to leave, dear?”

 _There it is again. “Dear.”_ Crowley was thinking all this with what he hoped was a straight face, but he wasn’t listening at all. His mind was too busy spiraling out of control. 

“Crowley? Did you hear me?” Aziraphale asked. “Hello? Don’t tell me you’re ignoring me already.”

“Oh, I’m sorry angel. Yes, of course let’s go back to the bookshop.” He left a tip on the table and they walked out the door. “Or...do you want to go to my flat? I’ve cleaned it up a bit.” _Go big or go home,_ he thought, biting his lip in anticipation as he opened the passenger side door for Aziraphale.

“Well, I appreciate the offer, of course, but I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll tuck in; I’m almost done with my book.” Immediately Aziraphale was angry at himself. _Why! Why did I say that! I can’t do anything right, apparently. Ugh._ Aziraphale sighed quietly. When would Crowley ask him over again? Was he always going to turn him down? And Crowley knows that Aziraphale doesn’t sleep. He knows that was a lie. Aziraphale was kicking himself. He looked down into his lap.

“Oh, okay. I’m sorry.” Crowley said awkwardly, blushing. “See you soon, then. Don’t stay up all night on your phone.” Crowley said that like he believed Aziraphale’s lie.  
“Yes, of course.” Aziraphale tried to laugh, but all that came out was an awkward chuckle. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Aziraphale left and Crowley watched him go into the bookshop, half hoping he would turn around and jump back into the Bentley. But he didn’t. Crowley drove away and went home, sleeping for almost four days straight.

He woke up to sixty-two missed calls from Aziraphale. After thirty-three calls Aziraphale had figured out voicemail, but not that there was a limit on how long you could talk, so there were twenty-nine voicemails that cut off in the middle of a sentence. It was funny, if you could overlook the fact that Aziraphale had called Crowley sixty-two times without a response.

As soon as Crowley saw this he bolted to his car. He was surprised that all that buzzing hadn’t woken him up, but that was in the past now. It doesn’t matter. He sped almost 130 kilometers per hour through central London to get to the bookshop. As soon as he got there, he burst open the doors and found Aziraphale talking into his phone, no doubt leaving another message for Crowley. Aziraphale looked up at him, worried.

“Where were you?” He asked angrily. Crowley opened his mouth, shocked, but Aziraphale didn’t even wait for Crowley to explain. “You get me this phone and don’t even answer when I call. Are you ignoring me? What did I do?” Aziraphale stood up and left the room.

“Angel, no. No, no. No, please don’t. I wasn’t ignoring you, I swear, I was just asleep.” He followed Aziraphale into the small kitchen in the back.

Aziraphale didn’t even look at him. “For almost four days? We had such a nice evening. Do you know how much I thought about it? Do you know how much I hate myself for not saying yes to you? I haven’t stopped thinking about you, Crowley. I haven’t. Not since 1941, and especially not since the air base. We’re finally here together and you’re ignoring me.”

“Angel, please. I wasn’t ignoring you. And I’m here now,” Crowley was about to cry. If Aziraphale would just let him _talk -_

“Crowley. I think it’s best if you go.” Aziraphale turned away so Crowley wouldn’t see the tears welling up in his eyes.

Crowley didn’t know what to say. He was stunned, his jaw open. But he left. He didn’t know what else to do.

As soon as he shut the door to the Bentley he broke down crying. And as soon as the bookshop door closed Aziraphale broke down crying as well. It was not pretty. Both of them were almost full-on sobbing, and only fifty feet from each other. 

Crowley couldn’t bring himself to drive away. He got out his phone and wiped away tears so he could actually see it. It pained him to look at all the missed calls and voicemails. Aziraphale never finished the one Crowley had walked in on, so the most recent one was from only about two hours ago. He opened it, wiping away tears.

 _“Crowley, where are you?”_ Crowley let out a sob. What had he done? _“I learned how to use this phone and now you’re not answering me. I went to your flat and knocked on the door and still had no response. Did I do something wrong? Tell me how I can fix it. I am terribly sorry I said no to you the other night. You know as well as I do that all I want is to be with you. For years, Crowley. Years. I don’t know why I can’t just say it. And now we have the time and the freedom and we just can’t do it. I don’t know what I was thinking. We have to at least try.”_ Crowley heard a sniffle. Now Aziraphale was talking through tears. _“I’m here now, and you’re not. And I don’t know why. I’m about to give up, Crowley. I’m sorry, but I can’t wait any longer. I’m leaving soon. There’s a book of prophecy I want in Canada and I’m going to get it if you don’t respond. I will. I’ll leave tomorrow. I can’t take it if we don’t do anything. I - ”_ And the message cut off.

Crowley was too stunned to keep crying. He could barely breathe. No. This couldn’t be happening. After all this time? After _six thousand years?_ He didn’t even want to listen to the other voicemails. This was the only one that mattered. Oh, God, why did he have to go to sleep? Crowley moved faster than he ever had before, sprinting into the bookshop.

“Aziraphale!” He yelled through tears. His voice cracked. He had a flashback to the last time he had run into the bookshop yelling Aziraphale’s name and he let out another sob. “I’m so sorry. I really am. Please don’t give up. I don’t know what I would do without you. I need you here. I - ” He had to stop himself from saying it. _I love you._

“Crowley?” Aziraphale appeared from the back room, his eyes puffy. “Why did you come back?” His voice was so quiet Crowley could barely hear.

“Are you serious, angel?” Crowley’s voice broke and he wasn’t even hiding the tears anymore. “Do you really think I don’t love you? Do you really think that I would ignore you? I would never ignore you. Ever. For six thousand years we were supposed to be enemies and I saved you every time you were in trouble. For six thousand years I loved you and did nothing about it. I will wait another six thousand years if it means eventually you’ll love me. I love you. Oh my God, Aziraphale, I love you. I can’t handle it anymore.”

Aziraphale walked over to him slowly. “Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely.” He whispered. “I have never been more sure of anything.” He stepped forward to meet Aziraphale.

“I love you too.” 

Crowley’s arms slid around Aziraphale’s waist. Aziraphale looked up at Crowley and kissed him, slow and long and sweet.

 _Finally,_ they both thought. _Finally._


End file.
